Some Men Want to Watch The World Turn
by ficmonger archive
Summary: Edward and Selina accompany the Penguin for the season finale of his stories, but they can't seem to find charm in it the way he does. Very fluffy, plotless friendship drabble. I really want these guys to be a trio.


**Content Warning:** Mentions of death/murder; food mentions

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There is nothing more dangerous, they say, than social criminals, and Oswald Chesterfield Cobblepot was the most social of them all. While most of his contemporaries agreed, all steely-eyed and cutthroat, that they didn't join this game to make friends, The Penguin would happily volunteer the information that quite the opposite was true of him: establishing social bonds was on the short list of motives for every major choice he'd ever made. He always considered himself an affable man, but he often grew so very lonely. Other members of his class uniformly shunned him for his odd mannerisms, but lucky, these quirks translated into a certain charm that delighted a number of Gotham's freaks. So rather than be a stranger among wealthy men, Ozzie found his place being wealthy among strange men. Because his dealings were so much more discreet than the other rogues, he was able to maintain his obscenely high standards of living, and those to whom he felt loyal and vice versa were often offered a place to stay, if not in the name of necessity, then for recreation.

The Penguin was very fond of several of the other rogues: Harley Quinn, The Mad Hatter, Warren White; he even found the likes of Killer Croc to be occasionally agreeable. But at the moment, he was accompanied by a pair that he considered to be his best friends, one on either side, so they could properly mock his insipid telenovela in stereo.

"Ah! There, look at that!" he cried, jostling the man on his right with a pudgy elbow, causing a few bonbons to tumble out of their box. "Did you see? Valentina is still contemplating murder, you can tell by the look in her eyes!"

Edward rubbed the spot on his arm that had been struck and gave his host a dubious look. "Is that what tipped you off? I was more convinced by the slow zoom and the dramatic keyboard stings."

"Oh, don't ruin this for me."

To Ozzie's left, Selina Kyle had become preoccupied with scratching one of the man's lovely free-roaming birds on the top of its head, muttering enthusiastic endearments as is fanned out its feathers. "Ozzie, which one is this?" she asked as the thing began to nip at a lock of her curly hair.

"That's Valentina Bolivar," he said, gesturing the screen," and this is_Passionate Ages in Portsmouth."_

Selina shook her head, but gently, as not to disrupt the little black foul she'd befriended. "No, no, I mean the bird." It had since flitted its way up to her shoulder and then the top of her head, which she allowed passively, letting her love of animals betray her aloof persona time and time again.

The man glanced briefly in her direction before brightening. "Hm? Oh, that's Mr. Darcy. And he's a mettlesome thing too, _aren't we precious?"_ He reached over and lifted his pet out of its new makeshift nest, stroking his fine black plumage and fawning over his blank hundred-yard stare. Eddie gave him another incredulous look. "You'd better not get feathers in the candy."

"Don't be so neurotic Edward, I can assure you that Mr. Darcy takes more baths in one weekend than you do in a full month. He's as clean as a whistle." He kissed the top of the animal's head adoringly as if to emphasize his point before encouraging him to fly off to some other corner of his penthouse. His guest's frown only creased further into his face, at which point the two men engaged in a brief, obstinate staring contest. Ozzie lost.

"Oh what is it _now?"_

"You are planning to wash your hands now, correct?"

The Penguin groaned and rolled his eyes in defeat, pushing the box of sweets in his lap into Selina's care, making a great show of not handling its contents before tottering off to the bathroom in a huff. Miss Kyle gladly accepted the container, jamming a few truffles into her mouth absentmindedly as she returned her tenuous focus to the happenings on screen.

"So wait, I stopped paying attention. Are they still going to do the double wedding or did that fall through?"

Eddie kicked his bare heels up on the coffee table. "They said they were, but you can tell that Valentina's going to killer her fiancé. She's been hiding a gun in her sock drawer since the end of the last episode. See, look? There she goes now." Oswald's guests looked on in stone silence as the grizzly deed was carried out, both of them snorting in unison at the gross inaccuracies portrayed on screen.

"No one I've _ever_ shot has ever been that graceful about dying."

"Maybe that's because you only kill ugly people."

"Hey now Selina, I've killed plenty of 'tens' in my day…"

From the sound system, more gunshot noises erupted as the woman portraying Valentina worked herself into a whirlwind of stiffly acted hysterics, prompting Oswald to come rushing back, fuzzy slippers thwapping urgently on the marble floors. He all but slid into the room,_Breakfast Club_ style.

"Did she—!?"

Selina nodded and set about devouring a third chocolate. Eddie concurred verbally, causing Oswald to turn slightly pink in vexation. "She did."

"Oooh, _drats!_ You made me miss it, you and your silly imaginary germs."

"Relax, we're still going to watch her hide his remains."

Oswald reclaimed his spot between them, grousing but admittedly comforted by this knowledge. Inwardly, he sighed. If only his companions paid his stories the respect they deserved, they wouldn't bother him with trivialities until the commercial break.


End file.
